ALTHO' my bed were in yon muir,
Amang the heather, in my plaidie;
Yet happy, happy would I be,
Had I my dear Montgomerie's Peggy.
When o'er the hill beat surly storms,
And winter nights were dark and rainy;
I'd seek some dell, and in my arms
I'd shelter dear Montgomerie's Peggy.
Were I a baron proud and high,
And horse and servants waiting ready;
Then a' 'twad gie o' joy to me,—
The sharin't with Montgomerie's Peggy.
More verses by Robert Burns
- Lines On Meeting With Lord Daer
- Verses On Castle Gordon
- Elegy On Captain Matthew Henderson
- Ballad On Mr. Heron's Election—no. 2
- Epistle To John Maxwell, Esq., Of Terraughty